From Me and All of Us with Love for the Artist Tavares Strachan

The anticipation: Inside me a geyser mid-expulsion, whilst outside…this veneer of calm.

My destination: The Royal Academy of Arts in London (RA).

I’ve seen phenomenal artwork over my short existence, but nothing—I repeat—NOTHING on the scale and caliber of this contemporary artist that I had only recently heard about and who takes no prisoners on the art scene. Bahamian-born Tavares Strachan forever changed my creative sensibilities. Thank the Blackest Goddess!

For this reason alone, I caught the Eurostar back from Paris to get to London’s Piccadilly Circus with a quickness.

I had seen photos of Strachan’s reimagination of Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘The Last Supper’ appropriately christened ‘The First Supper.’ To say that a sea of revered historic Black leaders, scientists, activists, explorers, and artists greeted visitors when entering the Royal Academy courtyard would be a gross understatement. This larger-than-life-size bronze sculpture covered with black patina and gold leaf drew people in crowds right off the busy London sidewalks with compelling magic that had to be witnessed and felt, and I’m so glad I did both.

At the center of the table, arms extended, sits Emperor Haile Selassie I, given the title “Father of Africa” by 32 independent African nations after facilitating the foundation of the Organization of African Unity in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia in 1960. To Selassie’s far right at the table's end is gospel

singer in gold, Rosetta Tharpe followed by “The Moses of our People” Harriet Tubman, and the first US Black Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm striking a dramatic pose befitting her achievement regalness. Next is the father of Pan-Africanism, with a voice to wake the dead, Marcus Mosiah Garvey beside gold-bedecked Brazilian resistance fighter Zumbi dos Palmares. On the Emperor’s left, hands raised to the heavens is Jamaican nursing Crimean War hero Mary Seacole, followed by explorer Matthew Henson in his thick arctic coat. Marsha P. Johnson, gay rights activist is

graceful, her gleaming arm nearly touching King Tubby who wears the golden crown of Jamaican premiere sound engineer. Poet Sir Derek Alton Walcott rounds out the gathering beside standing astronaut Robert Henry Lawrence. The table, by no means bare, is adorned with rice, breadfruit, cocoa, catfish, chicken, and custard apple, reflecting the rich culinary culture that connects the African Diaspora throughout timelines with nourishment.

And for an additional lightning touch of surreal drama, Strachan fashioned himself as Judas in the scene, wearing a hoodie and casually sitting on a stool off to the side with a thylacine (a canine species now extinct) lying at his feet.

“In the context of sculpture, I think it’s important for us to have an archive of the stories of our folks; one that doesn’t necessarily centre Europe, Modernism or any -ism that is not indicative of us.” — Tavares Strachan

Striking contrasts of black and gold against the drab-colored exterior backdrop of the RA building made the sculpture even more of a wonder to behold.

In moving closer to the exhibit, one could experience the immense proportions to which observation and study engage those who approach to take a journey, not simply customary glances. The crowd around me stayed admiring this work for close to 30 minutes, beaming faces, buzzing energies before different people arrived in a constant humanity interchange. Questions were asked aloud to no one in particular.

“What is this all about?”

“Who are these people?”

“Why is this set up like Leonardo Da Vinci’s: The Last Supper?”

The surrounding air became a constant state of humming electrical charge, a sensation similar to atmospheric pressure that builds from tropical depression to tropical storm to hurricane.

Powerful moments, I desired to elongate them—stretch them past limits of elasticity and bounce around on them like a kid on a trampoline for the first time. Exuberant joy does that. You don’t want to leave it. You wanna come back tomorrow. The next week. Next month.

Alas, the exhibit concluded April 28, 2024, but you know what?

I’m STILL bouncing around.

(*Insider tip* Anything with Tavares Strachan’s name on it…go and check it immediately.)

Read more about the exhibit below:

I am very appreciative that you read this story! I put a great deal of effort and time into it, so that means so much to me. You are more than welcome to read more of my work below.